Sweeping the Past from the Present
by Queen Bovine
Summary: "It doesn't take long for Gamora to decide changes need to be made on the Milano." In her quest to turn the ship from a disgusting bachelor pad into a livable environment, she unintentionally makes it a home.


A/N: I love this movie, but I've only seen it twice. The story idea kept me up until three in the morning a few weeks ago, so I thought I'd polish up and post it before Vol. 2 comes out. Blame any issues on unfamiliarity with the subjects (but still let me know so I can fix them). Enjoy!

It doesn't take long for Gamora to decide changes need to be made on the _Milano_. When she trips over yet another pile of useless junk on her way to the galley a few rotations after their departure from Xandar, she decides that the abhorrent state of the ship is just as much a safety hazard as it is a nuisance. Her need for organization overpowers her newfound respect for their captain and she puts her foot down. When she informs Quill of her intentions to purge their noxious base, he snickers and says something about "spring cleaning" and her turning into a "homebody". Confused, she asks what "spring" means, and soon regrets it as she is enduring his woefully inadequate attempt at explaining the phases of Terra's orbit and related cultural practices. The only thing he is able to express in terms she can relate to is the basic patterns of the four seasons, though she still can't understand what cleaning has to do with warmer weather. Peter doesn't think to teach her "homebody," and a tactful Gamora doesn't question him further.

(Even if she did understand what the latter word meant, she wouldn't have made the connection between the girl-that-was who loved her simple family life, and the woman-that-is who recognizes the crew she is a part of needs a more sanitary place to live.)

She wonders why nobody else seems to care about the state of their habitat, but realizes that Drax has lived in far worse conditions as an inmate, Rocket is far too preoccupied with his little friend to notice anything else, and Peter has lived in his own filth for so long he probably doesn't even remember what the _Milano_ 's walls are supposed to look like.

(Had Gamora's past been less tragic, the conflicting-yet-harmonious mixture of exasperation and affection she feels for her crewmates might have been familiar and comforting; as it is, she labels the emotion "pleasantly confusing" and files it away to examine later.)

Drax is, surprisingly, the easiest one to convince to help. He initially resists with the objection that such work is below his pride as a warrior, but Gamora, thinking quickly, tells him it _is_ a job for a warrior, because it is a battle to retake the ship from the muck and grime that has overtaken it. He _must_ help, because he is too valuable a soldier to abandon this fight for their home.

(She doesn't realize when she says "home" instead of "base.")

The notion of aiding such an important cause strikes a different note with Drax, and he puts himself very formally at her service. She takes one look at the determination in his face and sends him to the area that is worst by far: the wash closet.

Rocket is ready to go for her jugular if she nags him one more time— _so help him, cosmos, can't she see he has more important things to worry about than her stupid complex_ —until she points out that the cleaner the ship, the better the oxygen circulation, and the healthier the Groot-seedling will be. He darts off like his name suggests to clear the ventilation system, with his own teeth and claws if necessary, to keep the gases his vulnerable friend will be consuming uncontaminated. Gamora allows herself a sigh of relief. Only his small body fits in the ducts, and the smell is beginning to remind her of the vats of processed spinal fluid on Knowhere.

Peter ends up being the most stubborn of the group. He sees no point in assisting with chores he never bothered with before, and knows from experience it will not bother him to go on in that same state of affairs. He doesn't _mind_ , per se, that they are gutting his ship; as long as they don't damage anything, they can dust, scrub, and polish to their hearts' content. He just has no intention of _helping_ , other than as the self-proclaimed "dee jay" of their cleaning party.

(She isn't as literal-minded as Drax, but it does still bother her when he uses these bizarre phrases and metaphors, as though he is speaking a code only Terrans can understand.)

In the end, the threat of bodily harm does the trick, and he takes instructions and supplies from her, grumbling but compliant.

Seeing the project through requires a supply of patience Gamora didn't know she had. Their entire oxygen supply almost combusts when Rocket gets distracted experimenting with the sanitizing chemicals and, too his glee, discovers more than one flammable combination. The pyromaniacal rodent literally snaps at her fingers when she snatches a bottle from him, irritated that she is interrupting his "sciency research." She has to take Groot's pot and set it in front of him as a physical reminder to get the other Guardian to return to his task. She leaves the seedling there to motivate safer procedure, and notes that he _had_ done an excellent job before the lure of potential explosions became too strong.

(She wonders, sometimes, if Groot was not there to tether him to a dubious sort of compassion, whether Rocket's suggestions about blowing up moons would have remained in jest.)

Peter is completely unreliable, barely effective while she's watching and slacking off the moment she's not. Having to constantly hover over him is so frustrating that she comes very close to banishing him to the cockpit and doing both their jobs herself. She only refrains by reminding herself that that is exactly what he wants.

(She briefly considers taking his "Walkman" hostage as a bargaining chip, but remembers what he risked to get it back in the Kyln and wisely avoids such an extreme conflict.)

Standing tall on the other end of the spectrum is Drax, who turns out to be _far_ too thorough. While she is admiring the newly spotless wash closet, he starts in on the captain's bunk and collects a sack of pointless rubbish to dispose of. Quill catches him on the way to the incinerator, and nobody is surprised to learn that the single-minded Destroyer's definition of "pointless" is quite different from the eccentric Star-Lord's. The ensuing squabble ends with the latter participant anxiously sorting through his personal effects to put back everything he is going to keep, the most productive he has been this entire rotation, and the former being put back to work with more specific instructions than "clean as much as you can."

(Later she will realize that Drax's natural aggression is not quite so prominent as it once was, or the confrontation would have quickly become violent.)

Somehow she manages to stay more or less in control of the group, unyielding in her goal of an organized, battle-prepared environment to enable their travels. Despite bursts of temper, working together to clean their home relaxes and rejuvenates the Guardians in unseen ways, though none of them will admit anything of the sort. Gamora goes to sleep that night in a freshly scrubbed cot, more content than she has been since childhood.

(Her slain parents and slaughtered people haunt her less and less as she grows into this new life with a new family.)


End file.
